“You can't have real pain without real love. You can't feel grief and loss and hurt without real love. Love is the only way you can ever be really hurt deep down.”

“Violet!' Lincoln said, then sighed. 'You don't love him. This isn't real. You know what's real and it's hard and it hurts and we can't...Damn it, Vi--we're real!”

“Real love ain't no fantasy - it's messy, and sometimes it's downright hard. And with real love there's no guarantee you'll never get hurt. You can't love somebody with one foot out of the door. If you love her, its got to be all the way, no matter what happens. That's real love - not this straddling the fence thing you've got going on.”

“Because, if you could love someone, and keep loving them, without being loved back . . . then that love had to be real. It hurt too much to be anything else.”

“What is real?" Asked the boy. "It is a thing that happens to you when a girl loves you for a long time. Not just to play with," Noah said. "But really loves you." "Does it hurt?" Asked the boy. "Sometimes. When you are real you don't mind being hurt.”

“Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real.""Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit."Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are Real you don't mind being hurt.”